To Taste Your Beating Heart
by atrialbyfire
Summary: Katherine makes him feel in a way no one else has, with a passion he's never understood, but what's going to happen when the fangs come out? set in 1864 S/K , D/K


**DISCLAIMER: **I own none of the Vampire Diaries characters, but I wouldn't mind if I did.

Thirteen days, that was exactly how long Katherine Pierce had been a part of his life, just thirteen days, and already he felt himself being stretched thin so that she might wrap him around of her delicate fingers - and he'd gladly let her. Why? Because Katherine, _Little Miss Katherine_, made him feel in ways he never had. Her presence alone was enough to draw his breath and leave him gasping for air and some sense of self, while her fleeting and teasing touches left heated skin in their wake. Sure, he'd felt lust before, but never like this. This was something beyond schoolboy fantasies and the idea of sex. This was aching desperation and unholy intentions, the realization that he'd gladly sell his soul to the devil if it meant she could have whatever was left to do with as she pleased. It was thoughts like these that left him almost bitter, because the fact of the matter was that despite every fiber of wanting that stitched itself through his skin, nothing had yet to happen between them.

Damon and her, however, were an entirely different story. He could vividly recall the time he'd caught them, Damon had had her pressed up against the back of the house, her hoop skirt gaping wide around his hips which had become sewn together with her own. They hadn't even noticed him, too drowned in feverish cries to pay any mind to the younger man who'd gone out in search of firewood only to find what he chalked up to be betrayal.

He ran a hand over his face, the creases of his palm dragging along his flesh in what he meant to be a soothing manner but served to only make him more exhausted. Green eyes, dim but no less alive, watched his ceiling while he laid sprawled in his bed. Over and over he replayed the memory, as if doing so might somehow free him from Katherine's effortless manipulations and control, but try as he might his conscious refused to let go of the desire, of the want, the need, the happiness that would light in his eyes each time she came around with that coy smile of hers.

A knock on his door drew him up into a sitting position, his elbows idly resting on bent knees. "Come in."

And suddenly there she was, slipping into his bedroom with a sauntering grace all her own, that smile wrapped predictably over plump pale lips. "Hello Mr. Salvatore," she greeted eloquently, charmingly, in a way that had him wanting to reach forward to taste the product of such sweet sound.

"Miss Pierce," he acknowledged in return while trying to ignore that he was dressed in only a pair of trousers, his shirt having long been abandoned to a cloth bag in the corner. Though, studying her more carefully, he observed she was no better off. In place of an elegantly crafted gown she wore but a simple night dress, the white material billowing out from her hips while the rest of it remained tightly stitched to her torso. His gaze grew greedy over the swell of her breasts, how they rose in time with her lungs and a unknowingly dead heart. "What can I do for you...?" His voice trailed off as she stepped closer, curls bouncing, hips curving, grin unwavering.

"I was wondering if you might want to play a game with me," she said, answering him so softly he almost missed the words entirely.

This was how they always seemed to start, with her 'games', where she was always the victor and he was left standing, waiting for a conclusion that he'd yet to achieve. Only he kept trying, escorting her on picnics, chasing her through garden mazes, in the hopes that one day he'd be the one to win, at which point he'd take her for his prize and it would be pleasure, and primal, and utter magnificence.

"And what game would that be, Miss Katherine?" His voice seemed to tremble as she drew closer yet, goose bumps running along his flesh as if his skin itself was attempting to reach out and touch her.

She smirked further, the expression cunning, teasing, _taunting_ - full of intentions he couldn't even begin to fathom. In a fortnight he'd already learned that Katherine was unpredictable. Initially he'd found it endearing, now it was aggravating, being unable to determine just what she had in store for him. Her head shook and she put a finger to her lips before crooking it in a come hither gesture. His brows furrowed in response, confusion written along the margins of his face, a curiosity that only emblazoned when she retreated from his chambers.

He was after her immediately, bare feet colliding with wooden floors so fast he near slid into the very door that separated him from his pursued. Already he was playing into her hand, chasing her from the house as gracefully as an ape. His eagerness brought a laugh to Katherine's lips, the melodic sound only serving to entrance him further as they finally escaped to the terrace, the moonlight catching her gown in a subtle glow that reflected against perfectly smooth olive skin.

Running across the ground like an almost giggling child, Katherine clutched the fabric of her dress in hand and lifted it slightly so as to travel easier, escaping into the treeline when Stefan got close. "You have to catch me!" she declared, egging him on with a minor spin, the likes of which lifted her skirts as if they'd been caught in a breeze, offering him a glimpse of long legs that appeared to go on for miles.

A twig snapped beneath his feet as he pushed himself faster, reaching out for her. Initially he missed, a beautifully executed dodge on her part leaving him grasping not but air, but before too long his grip found sanctum around one of her forearms. Stefan used his leverage to pull her around quickly, leaving her dizzy as he instinctively pushed her back into the nearest solid object. The tree's bark pinched at the exposed flesh of her shoulders and he kept her still, his body taut against her own.

"I win..." he informed her in a rough, almost like whiskey, drawl - and then he kissed her, his lips pressing to her with all the want that had been bleeding through his veins from the first time he'd seen her.

She returned his efforts with fervor, her hands reaching up to trace circles over his scalp before they entangled almost painfully into his hair. The growl she pulled from his lips heated her own as their tongues continued to fight for dominance within the confines of her mouth. Only when she'd gotten him to submit did she delightfully draw his bottom lip between her teeth, kissing, nibbling, and sucking until it was swollen from her lust.

"Katherine..." he murmured huskily, his forehead leaning against her own.

She could hear his hesitance, a natural reluctance that seemed to plague the virtuous. "It's okay," she reassured him faintly before pulling him in for another bruising kiss, unwilling to release him now.

Her assurance was enough, and Stefan gave in easily, offering every crevice of his mouth for her to explore and claim while his hands fisted at the top of her dress. Virgin fingers ghosted along the swell of her breasts, groping for them through the fabric that he eventually settled on ripping away. The sound of the material tearing sounded like static next to the pounding in his ears. Katherine gasped against his mouth as he finally obtained what he'd been reaching for, hands circling, weighing, massaging the free flesh in his hands. Thumbs ran curiously over dusky nipples, eliciting weak cries that could be heard in his loins.

Katherine's back arched into his touch, pushing her perky mounds further into Stefan's hungry palms. Meanwhile her own hands traveled down along his back, fingertips assessing each groove of muscle as they tensed and trembled beneath her touch. Only when they reached his hips did they circle back around his front, the tips curling just underneath the waistline of his pants. She tugged the hem teasingly, both towards her and down, inching them along his hips until they reached the point of his thighs where they then dropped down around his ankles. He immediately stepped out of them, leaving them but a puddle of fabric on the forest floor. She took the time to grasp him firmly, and the sound that she pulled from his lips almost wasn't human.

Her experienced hand gripped him almost too tight and stroked in a way that quickly had him panting. She could feel his labored breath against her neck, where his lips were currently suckling while his hands wrenched at the fabric of her gown that had gathered around her hips, trying to pull it down. His longing was infectious, and she attempted to help him along with her free hand while the other continued to concentrate on the prominent member between his thighs.

There was a loud grunt and a sharp final tug as Stefan finally managed to pull the material from her skin. The tearing fabric burned along the flesh of her hips on account of the force, pulling her away from the tree a moment before he pushed her back against it. Stefan, her beautiful Stefan, who knew that he'd had such _rough _potential, one could only wonder to what extent said traits could heighten when she inevitably turned him.

Despite the reservoir of endearments he had for her, the only sound that escaped him now was one of need as he finally managed to wrap his hands around her thighs as a means to pull her up. Instinctively her legs wrapped around his waist, slender calves brushing along his back as he held them steady and still just for a moment. This was it, his victory, but it was more than that and it had always been more than that. It was more than the slight envy and he'd felt towards his brother, then the small trembles that racked his spine every time he was granted the opportunity to brush his lips along the back of her knuckles, to obtain just the faintest taste of her as far as society allowed. It was passion, and honest, and _real_ and it was everything that Katherine was - and it was that he loved her.

He guided his tip along her folds, hearing her whimper while recognizing just how eager she'd grown. Moisture dutifully stuck along the insides of her thighs and he could feel her nails curling into his shoulders, silent physical pleas for him to not tease her even though she'd done it to him time and time again.

"Stefan..." she gave in and spoke his name, like a lullaby, and he couldn't hold back.

He guided himself into her, but he couldn't restrain his excitement nor his need for very long and thrust in quickly as soon as he was but an inch or so inside. Immediately she clenched around him, and he gasped over the unique sensation. He'd never felt so complete, she fit him like a glove, her muscles contracting around him as if in warm welcome.

"Don't stop," she hissed, rocking her hips almost forcefully, pushing him into the realization that he'd stilled, honestly having lost himself inside her.

Upon such awareness he resumed, pulling out slowly before thrusting again as he had before, fast and in desperation. The pace was a wicked and slightly unstable one, but he didn't care, all he knew was that he wanted to get deeper, to become whole with her, to fulfill dreams that had plagued him since the first time he'd brushed his lips along the back of her hand, _thirteen days_. Katherine's cries fell on his ears just as his legs began to burn with his pace, some more coherent than the next but all sounds of pleasure to match his own. Neither of them noticed the way her skin broke against the bark of the tree only to re-heal, or that he held her legs to tight that he'd surely have left bruises were it possible. Stefan didn't even realize the occasional moment where her veins would darken around perfectly entrancing eyes, his own closed as he drew his teeth along her outstretched throat, treating her with love bites too rough for anyone but her.

Then, with a sudden pitch, the incoherencies rose to an undeniable level and he could only seem to scream as her muscles hugged him unbearably tight, taking from him all he had to give. His hips twitched and trembled as he fell from the high, his muscles burning from the exertion. Such a worthwhile and addictive ache.

Slowly he unwound her thighs from around his waist and with a hiss and a sharp breath he'd slipped out of her, leaving him feeling cold and her empty. He matched the beading sweat between his brows with a smile as he leaned in to kiss her before sharply drawing back, green eyes widening as they noted the dark veins that had begun to protrude along her porcelain cheeks. Confusion and an unwelcome feeling of dread grew like a sore in his stomach as he stepped back, but she matched each retreating foot, moving closer.

"Shh... it'll be our little secret," and before he had time to comprehend the words she was upon him.

* * *

><p>So this is my first attempt at a longer story (: Please let me know what you think!<p> 


End file.
